


to carry a crown

by orbitalknight



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Torna: The Golden Country DLC, very slow slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbitalknight/pseuds/orbitalknight
Summary: Addam Origo receives an unexpected invitation to the coronation of Mor Ardain's newest Emperor.





	1. a measure of manners

“You’re a hard man to find, Mr. Origo!” 

The afternoon sun shone off the helmet of the Ardanian musketman, his roughly accented voice muffled through his mask. He was holding a letter in one gloved hand, a Volff-like blade sitting attentively at his feet. A couple more Ardanians stood stiffly at attention behind him. They stuck out against the scenery, all dark tones in sharp contrast to the off-white of Leftherian sand. Addam could picture it vividly whenever the exchange crossed his mind, but it hadn’t been the scenery or the distorted reflection of his own face in the goggles of the musketman that nibbled at his consciousness as a dedicated mouse would the corner of an ever too large wheel of cheese. It was the words:  _ A hard man to find _ . Addam Origo had never considered himself that way, and couldn’t articulate why it bothered him so.

He had taken the letter, of course. It bore the imperial seal of Mor Ardain, pressed into gold wax. He hadn’t opened it until later, making camp on one of the smaller titans in the archipelago. Addam sat cross-legged on his bedroll and opened the envelope, reading it by the light of the fire. The paper had a gilded border that matched the wax on the envelope, and the imperial seal had again been embossed upon the upper right corner of the parchment. At the top, in a particularly large script, it read: “Coronation of His Majesty Hugo Ardanach.” The text below was slightly smaller, broken up by a line where the invitee’s name could be filled in: “By Order of the Emperor, the Master of Ceremonies Is Directed to Invite Addam Origo To Be Present at Hardhaigh Palace.” It was followed by the date and time of the ceremony, which Addam had initially ignored, more concerned with the handwritten nature of his name. He had rummaged in his rucksack for a different letter, this one a little less official-looking. Upon comparison, he found his guess had been right. The shape of the letters and the tilt of the script in both documents matched perfectly. Hugo, even though he was the one named for the coronation, had written the invitation himself. 

Addam had been a little surprised. He’d been traveling nonstop for some time now, catching rides to distant titans with smugglers and merchants alike. When the Ardanian squadron had first approached him on rumors from a local village of a visitor from Torna, he’d assumed that he’d inadvertently committed a war crime. A summons to the capital of Mor Ardain written in the soon-to-be Emperor’s own hand? Well, he supposed that was very much like Hugo, ever one for keeping ceremony, but never willing to compromise a personal touch. Addam had wanted an excuse to visit Mor Ardain, anyway, since he’d that promise to keep. Then again, he hadn’t expected to be so delayed in the first place. At the very least he was certain that Hugo had the patience for the lengthy tale. 

Addam had been excited to come of age. He’d always been passingly aware of the way the royal family had kept him at arm’s length, and thought that when he was old enough to finally be included at the banquet table that would all change. He’d been wrong, which was only half a surprise. Instead of a seat among the rest of the royals, Addam had been given a prompt eviction notice and a manor in the distant Aletta region. Aletta was out on the Wrackham Moor, pretty enough in terms of scenery, but the manor itself hadn’t been well attended to in several years. The farmland around it was in dismal condition, and the resident staff were all of old age, unable to tend to it. Addam had only visited twice, once when he’d first been relocated and the second time while he’d been traveling, to check for mail. He loved Torna, truly and deeply, but Aletta made his chest ache in some unspeakable way. 

So he took it as a sign to get out a bit, see the wonders of Alrest. He’d drifted from Uraya to Indol, rested for a while when the ship he had last boarded docked in Argentum. He’d gone to Leftheria after a conversation with an old Titan ship captain, who said that visiting Torna always reminded him of his youth in Leftheria. Addam wondered if there was any truth in the comparison, and set off, though it was at this point in his journey that he’d ever so briefly returned home. That was when he got the letter he was carrying from Hugo, though it was long delayed after first being sent to Aureus Palace. Addam had been quick enough in penning a reply, but he still hadn’t disclosed the full nature of his situation. He had realized he’d been avoiding Mor Ardain in his travels for the same reason. Hugo was still only a prince then, but Addam could by no means call him an equal, and it stung. He didn’t like to think about it. 

For the record, Leftheria wasn’t nearly as grand as Torna. There was some similarity, yes, but only enough to make Addam all the more homesick. And maybe he was sick of being alone, too. He’d go to Mor Ardain, keep his promise, and spend some quality time with his dear friend. The rest was future Addam’s problem! He could tackle Mor Ardain headfirst and deal with the rest later. Addam had fallen asleep with the golden letter in his hand and set off at sunrise for the nearest port. He didn’t mind one last trek through the Cloud Sea tunnels or sliding down the sand with only the bright sky above him. He would like the place much more if by some calamity Torna ceased to exist, but that certainly wasn’t going to happen. Addam managed to book passage on a ship departing for Mor Ardain the day after he’d been accosted with the letter, and thought himself quite the intrepid adventurer. By his estimation, he’d arrive two days before the actual coronation day. It seemed a slim chance, but there was the possibility that Hugo wouldn’t be altogether too busy to see him.

Addam re-read the coronation invitation on board the ship, thinking again about the encounter he’d had with the Ardanian soldier. He was pulled out of the thought by an Ardanian grandmother who was very eager to make conversation, especially with a young man who reminded her so much of her grandson. Addam had no intention of refusing her and spent the rest of the trip in deep conversation with the elderly woman. Really, he wanted to ask a local about the coronation, but she was much more concerned with her son’s new post in Chilsain and worrying over catching another ship to the city on the Titan’s shoulder. The ship they were aboard now would dock a little way outside of the imperial capital of Alba Cavanich, and all those headed for the city would have some walking to do. Addam’s plan of action was to explore the city outskirts and then make his way to the palace to say a quick hello. He wasn’t expecting free lodging since he wasn’t in the city with a diplomatic group. Addam figured he’d be perfectly happy at a local inn, anyway. 

The air in Mor Ardain had a taste to it, which Addam found very intriguing. It was the first thing he noticed, stepping off the ship and bidding the old woman farewell. The second thing he noticed was the distinct lack of greenery. Torna was lush, even in the urban centers like Auresco. Mor Ardain was colored in exclusively shades of brown, tawny and puce tones alike in the rolling expanse of dirt and shrubs. At the very least, it wasn’t like anywhere else Addam had visited so far. He set off for the capital, making passing conversation with a group of travelers and armu to get a sense for the best route he should take. A rugged looking man in the group had remarked upon all the new faces he was seeing, speculating it was the excitement for the coronation that had drawn the visitors. He was nonetheless kind to Addam, pointing out a distant elevator under construction and directing him to a path that had been carved into a nearby cliffside just for all the expected foot-traffic. 

While the arid plains lacked much in the way of flora, fauna was no particular issue. There were red-maned volff and skeeters with shiny black bodies, colonies of vangs hanging in cliff alcoves. Addam had taken a detour on his way to the footpath, on the chance he might spot a particular breed of monster. He was about ready to give up and head for the city when he spotted it, coiled behind a structure of steel beams. The aspar was enormous, with bronze scales and bright green rattle at the end of its tail. It looked nothing like the aspar that inhabited the Dannagh Desert in Torna, even down to the shape of its hood. He’d been ever so curious to see an Ardanian aspar, since that night in the palace. It was a night he’d thought about often, especially when the travels of the titans he visited took him ever farther from Torna. For all his avoidance, Addam truly did miss Hugo’s company.

The aspar stirred, and Addam took its warning clicks as a sign to get moving. He made his way up the cliff with a number of other travelers, most all of them buzzing with excitement over the coronation, just as the scruffy armu herder had said. The path had been clumsily cut, and dust every so often drifted down from the ceiling and alighted upon the shoulders of those making passage to the capital, punctuating every conversation with a bout of sneezing. Luckily the trek was not a long one, and the crowd spilled out at the top of the cliff right into the imperial capital itself. Addam took a moment just to breathe it in, the sounds of factories and storekeepers haggling their wares, and the smell of something burning as it cooked? He wondered if there was some danger of a fire, but none of the locals seemed at all concerned. Something to ask Hugo about, later. 

The skyline of Alba Cavanich was crowded with buildings, but above it loomed the impressive silhouette of Hardhaigh Palace. Addam would have gotten lost in the tangled streets of the city had the landmark not been so apparent, but it still took some time to make it to the wide bridge that lead to the palace. Guardsmen marched and armored titans lumbered along its length, and Addam felt very suddenly out of place among the shouted orders and tight regiments of soldiers. At last he passed beneath the outcropping that jutted out over the bridge and into the palace foyer proper, though it seemed much more like a fortress than a foyer. Addam spun in a circle, trying to take in all the details of the golden arches and bold red banners with the national crest of Mor Ardain across them. A voice, harsh and official, snapped him out of the trance.

“You there!” It was an Ardanian soldier situated behind a jutting metal beam rather than a desk, who sounded like he was scowling beneath his mask. “The imperial palace isn’t some lowly tourist attraction, you know! State your business, should you even have it!”

“My deepest apologies,” Addam waved his hands in a manner he assumed was diplomatic, “For any inconvenience. I was actually hoping for some assistance.”

The guard folded his arms. “If you’re looking for a tour guide, I suggest you get on your way.”

“Not at all!” Addam looped his rucksack off one shoulder, shuffling its contents until he retrieved the golden letter. “I received this just a few days ago, you see.”

The guard remained unimpressed. “You and many others. What, you think there was some mistake?”

“I certainly hope not!” Addam laughed, hoping levity was enough to buy himself some time before the guard grew impatient enough to throw him out. “I was wondering if Hugo... I mean, his majesty, is available for a chat?”

The guard certainly did laugh at that, though it didn’t seem an expression of shared levity. “A chat with the Emperor ascendant? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head right off the boat, lad?”

“I don’t recall doing so,” Addam rubbed the back of his head nonetheless. 

“Well,” The guard sighed, a strange sound through his mask, “You’re sore out of luck if it’s an audience you’re seeking. They’ve all been booked up for months now, what with the coronation. If you’re that desperate, though, I suppose I can put you down on the queue.”

It figured, though Addam didn’t say so. “Would you be so kind?”

The guard unfurled a list and pulled a quill pen from a steel loop on the wall that seemed to have been fitted there for that express purpose. “State your name.”

“Addam,” something caught in his throat, “Addam Origo.”  _ You’re a hard man to find. _

The guard dropped his pen. “You’re Addam Origo?”

“What, did you think I’d be taller?” Addam laughed a little before he fully processed the question. “Wait, were you expecting me?”

The guard hurriedly put the pen back in the wall and rolled up the paper. “I’ve orders direct from his majesty!” he squeezed his way out from behind the metal beam and gestured for Addam to follow him. “This way, if you please.”

It didn’t seem a point to be questioned. Addam followed the guard a little ways down the hall to one of two symmetrically arranged elevators. It was considerably less spacious inside than the elevator in Auresco that led to the Tornan Womb, which wasn’t an issue with only two people, but Addam wondered how difficult it would be to fit a squadron of guards in such a small space. The guard he’d been following marched with intention out of the elevator as soon as it stopped moving, the sound of his boots was harsh against the metal sheeting of the palace’s upper level. Addam was deeply curious about the sprawling balcony of the upper level but took a note from the guard he’d been following and attempted not to dawdle. It looked like he’d be able to see the head of the Ardanian titan if he could go just a little farther out... But the guard had directed him to a second elevator before he had the chance.

The ride this time was longer, and Addam noticed how nervous the guard he was with seemed. The scowl had likely been replaced with a grimace. Addam had to wonder what was the cause behind the man’s sudden lack of bluster, but the question was answered when the elevator stopped moving. He recognized the set-up of the room they exited into as soon as he made footfall upon the deep red carpet, saw the long table and farther down the way a single imposing and yet currently unoccupied chair. It was the throne room of Hardhaigh Palace, and Addam became in that instant painfully aware of how unpresentable he was for such a place. The guard he’d followed was speaking quietly and urgently to two more guards, gesturing every so often in Addam's direction. One of the two gave a sharp nod and exited through a door to the left of the long table.

Before Addam even had time to consider looking around, the door the guard had gone through burst open, a whole procession spilling into the throne room. There was no distinct head to the group, it was more of a gaggle of finely dressed citizens and Ardanian guards clustered around something or someone. The well-dressed ones were probably Ardanian senators, if Addam was remembering the governing system correctly. As the crowd dispersed Addam could, at last, see what they had all been gathered around, or rather, who. He recognized the dark hair, the way the figure stood with his arms behind his back, crossed at the wrist. There was a greater air of authority about him now, but as far as Addam could tell, nothing else had changed. 

Hugo turned around at a motion from one of the guards in his procession. His blue eyes went wide with surprise, then wrinkled with a smile. Addam’s heart missed a step, and for a moment he wasn’t a dusty traveler, but the prince he’d been on the Aureus Palace balcony, watching the sunrise with a dear friend. 

Hugo parted the crowd around him without even looking and made his way over to where Addam was standing. He was dressed in mostly blue, a capelet with a feathered collar over his shoulders and a golden circlet with two tiny golden wings at the ends upon his head. “I am ever so glad to see you here, Prince Addam.” Hugo’s voice was as gentle as his smile had been, which was likely a great departure from how he’d addressed the senators that now watched the exchange. 

Addam had turned excitedly to speak to his friend, but the sudden motion further displaced the dust from the cliffside footpath that had been jostled by the elevator ride. 

He sneezed on the soon to be Emperor.

The throne room fell into a deadly silence. Addam could have imagined it, but he thought he heard the distinct sound of a sword being unsheathed. 

Hugo, for his part, wiped the back of sleeve across his face with icy calm. “Did the ship you took to get here arrive at the Anangham port, by any chance?” there was something dark in the undertones of the words.

Addam hesitated, unsure if he should apologize before he answered. He figured he could always apologize later. “If that’s the one just outside the city, then yes.”

Hugo nodded. “It is indeed.” He spun to address the senators, “Unless there are any more questions regarding the merit of expediting the repair of the freight elevators you are dismissed. Please also be advised I will be entertaining guests for the remainder of the evening. Should your inquiries be urgent, I assume you are well enough aware of where to direct them.” The senators shuffled about, making their way to the elevator in a not entirely organized fashion. 

Once most had exited, Hugo again regarded Addam. “Should anyone attempt to interrupt our time together, you are most welcome to sneeze on them as well.”

“Hugo... I mean, your majesty, I...” Addam took a deep breath, “I am so terribly sorry.”

Hugo shook his head. “Think nothing of it. You served my case well, even if unhygienically.” 

“I am ever glad to be of service,” Addam gave a half-bow, “Though I had hoped to enjoy a less embarrassing reunion.”

Hugo’s smile was rueful, this time. “I will not pretend as if my hopes were not the same,” he looked up at Addam, “You arrived only this morning, I assume?”

Addam nodded. “Yes. I did get a bit of sightseeing in already.”

“Would you follow me, then? There is something I have been greatly looking forward to showing you.”

Addam was quick to agree and followed Hugo out the opposite door from the one the group of people had entered through. It led to a small spiral staircase that Hugo took two steps at a time, so Addam wasn’t worried about causing another royal offense by stepping on the soon to be Emperor’s feet. At last they emerged on a very small balcony that was much more like the prow of a ship than anything on a building. There was really only room for one or two occupants at the railing. Far above loomed the Ardanian titan, its massive head letting off a red glow in the fading daylight.

Hugo had beaten Addam to the railing. “The view from the throne room is good, but this is my favorite.”

Addam stood next to his friend, leaning on the curved metal. In the distance, he could see the smoke and steam of factories, as well as more of the endless brownness he had traversed to reach the palace. The gold light of the fading sun stuck its fingers through the clouds, painting the scenery as it did. The gold gave way to shades of red deep enough to shame the carpet in the throne room, mingling with a myriad of orchid hues. 

“So this is the famed Ardanian sunset?” Addam didn’t look away from the scenery, even as he spoke. It had been one of the first things Hugo had written about in his letters. 

“Indeed,” Hugo sighed, “I’ve been far too busy with this coronation business. Haven’t much a chance to enjoy leisure like this.”

“I am all the more grateful for your time, then,” Addam said, and meant it. 

“If it isn’t altogether too much trouble...” Hugo paused in consideration, “Might I ask you to join me here tomorrow evening as well?”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Addam turned to smile at Hugo, “In fact, I’d prefer it! I am loathe to visit Mor Ardain and only see one sunset, you know.”

Hugo smiled in return. “It is all the better with company, I can assure you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, here it is! the unofficial sequel to nothing so noble!!
> 
> addam is an absolute joy to write and i may have gotten a little carried away with the length of this... 
> 
> i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it!! thanks !!


	2. bound to a blade

Addam hadn’t expected to fall asleep in a palace bed so soon and had woken in the middle of the night deeply confused. For a moment he had almost thought the past many months had been a long dream, and he would never have to go to Aletta to be reminded of the night-time fantasy. But this wasn’t Torna, and it had all been quite real. The bed was not his and the sounds outside the window of the room he’d been given corroborated the fact of his distance from home, the hiss of steam and clank of machinery, muted through the thick glass but nonetheless there. He had stared at the ceiling, chest aching ever more than before. Eventually Addam managed to fall back into sleep, but when morning finally crept into the guest quarters of the Ardanian palace he did not feel nearly rested enough for the day ahead. 

He had spent most of the evening with Hugo, though eventually the Emperor to be had excused himself on the thought that he would be exceptionally busy with only one day before the coronation. He had also said that while he had invited the entirety of the Tornan royal family, so far Addam was the only one to attend. It was a way to work around the tensions in the Aureus Palace, though it left Addam with the position of handling all matters of diplomacy on behalf of Torna. Addam had thought that diplomatic situations surely couldn’t be all that different than fighting monsters in Uraya or Leftheria. It was about knowing the right response, be it in words or with a sword. He said as much to Hugo, who had explained that such an approach was similar to the Ardanian way, though perhaps it would be in Addam’s best interest not to emulate it. 

The two had agreed to meet at some point in the following day, despite the inevitable business. Hugo had directed Addam to a room near those of the royal family rather than the usual guest wing, reserved for only the most valued of visitors. 

“So if you chance upon another aspar, you’ll have me right nearby?” Addam had winked at Hugo, a smile on his lips. 

Hugo had smiled wryly in return. “Have you perhaps considered, should such a thing happen again, the possibility of it being the other way around?”

“Well,” Addam exaggerated the word, “My thanks in advance, dear Hugo.”

Remembering the exchange had warmed Addam as he dressed for the day. Clothing was something he and Hugo had discussed as well. Addam had two sets of traveling clothes that had been washed overnight and returned via a miniature elevator next to the laundry chute in the closet of the guest room, but along with the clothes he owned another set of garments had been provided. Formal Tornan dresswear that Hugo had apparently acquired for Addam to wear at the coronation, and while the foresight was impressive Addam hadn’t yet asked for more details about how Hugo had come by the clothes. The combination of laundry and a hot shower left Addam feeling greatly more refreshed and significantly less dusty. There was much less of a chance to commit another accidental faux pas this way, as well. 

Addam stepped out of the door and stretched, not realizing he had company in the hallway until he smacked his fist into a very solid shoulder. He turned to apologize, shaking out his wrist, and faltered. Addam did not usually falter, but he also did not usually accidentally smack Blades in foreign palaces, either. Blades were revered in Torna, but Addam couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen one in person. 

The Blade in question did not seem phased, and was unquestionably a Blade, while very human in shape. His core crystal glowed gently blue, as did much of the rest of him, tubes of some unidentifiable liquid crossing his form in numerous places. He wore what could be a jacket and a matching pair of tall white boots, both of which were accented in gold. There was a poise about the Blade, who didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at Addam, despite everything. It was familiar, somehow.

“You are... Master Addam, I presume?” The Blade spoke before Addam had the chance, his voice as rough and raspy as the wind across the Ardanian plains.

Addam opened and closed his mouth, deciding it wasn’t worth asking for less formality. “Indeed I am!”

The Blade nodded. “I am Aegaeon. His Majesty, Lord Hugo, sends his apologies that he could not meet you in person this morning.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Aegaeon,” Addam held out his hand until it was evident that the Blade had no intention of shaking it. “You’re Hugo’s Blade, then? Very impressive.”

Aegaeon retrieved and unfolded a document rather than replying. The imperial seal had been pressed into the paper, marking it as personal stationery. “I have prepared an itinerary for you at the request of His Majesty.” 

Addam took the proffered paper and scanned it. The schedule listed was excruciatingly detailed, everything organized down to the minute. “Are these simply suggestions, or am I to... follow them exactly?” 

Aegaeon did not have pupils with which to express his surprise, but the Blade did have eyebrows that lifted in shock and then furrowed in confusion. “Have you some prior engagement?”

“Not in particular, no,” Addam rubbed the back of his neck, “Will you be accompanying me today, as well?”

The Blade nodded. “At the behest of His Majesty, since he cannot attend to you personally.”

There would be no acting outside the lines of the itinerary with that sort of supervision. Addam tried to manage his disappointment. He’d gotten so used to traveling on his own time. He took a deep breath and read over the paper again. “Alright, then. It says the first thing on our list is...” He squinted, “A ‘proper Ardanian breakfast?’”

Aegaeon adopted a thoughtful pose that looked much like Hugo’s. “Yes. The royal kitchens should not be overly busy this morning.”

Addam motioned forward. “Lead the way!”

Aegaeon needed no more prompting. The Blade set off at a brisk pace through the palace, and Addam noticed more of the blue tubes dangled from a pointed structure on the back of the Blade’s head. It was deeply tempting to reach out and touch them. Addam restrained himself by taking in the palace scenery instead, following the deep red carpet with its lines of gold. As they walked the burning smell that Addam had noticed in Alba Cavanich resurfaced with a vengeance. It grew ever stronger when the sounds of a kitchen became apparent, the splashing of water over dishes and the scrape of utensils against plates and pans and cutting boards. Aegaeon did not seem at all bothered, and even when Addam could see smoke leaking between the double doors of the kitchen there were no signs of staff members rushing to confront danger.

The Blade pushed the doors open confidently, not bothering to hold them for Addam, who had to jog a little to avoid them slamming in his face. The Hardhaigh palace kitchen was bustling with staff, all of which wore full military dress, including helmets and goggles. Addam had to stop and stare, astounded by the spectacle. No wonder everything was burning, nobody cooking could see what they were doing! Aegaeon, for his part, slipped deftly through the crowd, pausing to sample dishes and offer corrections. As the Blade made his way around the room, the smell of burning and the cloud of smoke dissipated. At last the blue glow reappeared in front of Addam, holding two steaming plates.

“This way,” Aegaeon spun on the heel of one boot and led Addam through the kitchen and into another room, which was by any definition a mess hall. There were rows of long wooden tables with matching benches, and more masked soldiers talking noisily farther down the length of the room. Aegaeon arranged the two plates across from one another at the very end of one of the tables and sat in front of one, clearly indicating Addam should sit in front of the other.

Addam was hungry, especially not having slept well. What was in front of him was a dish mainly the same colors as the Ardanian dirt, some sort of meat and potatoes and gravy. It didn’t taste particularly bad, but the burnt flavor was distinctly there, the meat as chewy as a jerky despite how recently it had been cut and prepared.

Aegaeon had finished his portion quickly, hands folded on top of the table. “How do you like it?” he asked, as soon as Addam had a full bite in his mouth.

Addam tried to motion how preoccupied he was with chewing, especially with meat that probably would’ve retained its shape had a Titan stepped on it. “Well, it’s...” he didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to be dishonest, either, “it is always a pleasure to have a freshly cooked, good and hearty meal first thing in the morning.”

Aegaeon seemed to understand the lack of a compliment in the statement. “Indeed. If you would please consult the itinerary.” It wasn’t a question. 

Addam wondered if they were already behind schedule. He pulled the paper from a pocket in his trousers and scanned it, smiling as he read off the next item. “It says here that you’re going to spar with me?” 

Aegaeon nodded. “Lord Hugo said you would be pleased with that addition.”

“Did you write the whole schedule, Aegaeon?” Addam leaned one elbow on the table and found it unpleasantly sticky. He shifted back on the bench, rather uncomfortably.

“I merely compiled it based on His Majesty’s requests and suggestions.” 

“Oh, like a secretary?” Addam regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. 

Again, the Blade did not need eyes with pupils to spell out how he felt regarding the comment. Aegaeon stood. “I do only as His Majesty commands. This way.”

Addam hesitated to leave his plate sitting messily on the table, but Aegaeon’s brisk pace had already put the Blade too far ahead for Addam to even offer an apology. It wasn’t at all like when he had shown Hugo around Aureus palace, making sure to keep in mind the rather diminutive stature of his friend when he turned corners. Be it in the name of efficiency or spite, Aegaeon kept steadily ahead of Addam as the two traversed a different set of halls. Every passageway they went through felt the same as the last, and Addam worried he’d be seeing red and gold when he closed his eyes a good while into the future. At last, the Blade pushed through a set of large double doors into a hall with wide windows and hardwood flooring. It wasn’t as lovely as the training hall in Torna, and the fact that it was indoors left the place smelling rather strongly of sweat. It was hard to find it particularly pleasant. 

Addam had a sudden, jarring realization. “Should I have brought my own sword?”

The Blade shook his head, the tubes attached whipping about as he did. “There is no need for that. His majesty was incredibly thorough in his preparations for your visit.” 

Aegaeon escorted Addam to what looked from the outside to be a wardrobe, but it was filled with all sorts of weapons rather than clothing. Addam recognized a few of them from his travels across Alrest and found upon closer inspection that none of the weapons present were Ardanian. It seemed likely, then, that this particular training hall was meant exclusively for practicing with or against the weapons of other nations. Very Ardanian to be so prepared, Addam supposed. He rummaged about noisily in the cabinet, most likely to Aegaeon’s distress, though the blade was standing behind him so there was no way to be certain if his expression had changed. At last he found a longsword that suited his taste and pulled it out, dislodging half the weapons and knocking over the rest. He tried to reorganize at least a little but seemed to only be making the mess worse. Addam was too eager to spar to really think about the task clearly. 

Aegaeon’s dismay was evident as the Blade watched Leftherian wooden spears tumble over Urayan axes onto the wooden floor. He lifted Addam by the shoulders and moved him away from the cabinet, deftly sorting the weapons and sliding them back into place. It took several minutes, but at last, the wardrobe door closed fully and without issue. 

Addam, for his part, had paced up and down the room with nervous and excited energy. He had never fought a Blade before, and Aegaeon wore a Chroma Katana across his hip. Sword on sword, man and Blade. The Tornan philosophy was all about harmony, especially with Blades. Addam’s philosophy generally revolved around how well you could get to know another being when you sparred with them. It was a different sort of harmony, to be sure, but he still thought it worked. 

“Shall we?” Addam brandished his sword dramatically, now Aegaeon seemed satisfied with the state of the cabinet. 

The Blade nodded slowly. “Indeed.” He sounded almost as icy as Hugo had the day before.

Aegaeon was fast and hardly pulled his strikes despite the fact that Addam was only lightly armored. Addam found it was delightful to have such an experienced sparring partner, even if he was going to be exceptionally sore for the coronation. The Blade was for the most part silent as their swords clashed in the training hall, the clang of metal punctuated with the squeak of boots against the hardwood flooring. It was difficult to tell how well Addam was doing, given the healing ability of Blades meant Aegaeon had no visible marks of fatigue. The match went on for what Addam assumed was far longer than the time listed on the schedule, but even that lapse of focus left his sword arm aching. He knew he wasn’t going to outlast the blade in terms of physical stamina, but he certainly didn’t want to concede defeat, either.

Suddenly the doors of the training hall opened, so Addam and Aegaeon paused in their match. Aegaeon immediately dipped into a bow, and Addam tried to manage his labored breathing as he turned to find Hugo had entered, flanked by two Ardanian guards. Whatever cleanliness Addam had managed that morning had been soaked away in the sweatiness of sparring, and he found himself a little disappointed that this made twice he’d been so unpresentable in front of his friend. Now that he wasn’t moving, all the bruises he’d acquired in the course of the match ached ever more than before. Still, Addam managed half of a wave with his free hand, the other one still clenched around the hilt of the longsword. 

“Gentlemen. Good afternoon.” Hugo bobbed his head in acknowledgment of the wave, “I knew you would be here thanks to Aegaeon’s comprehensive itinerary.”

The blade bowed deeply. “You flatter me, Your Majesty.”

“At ease, Aegaeon. I am ever grateful for your efforts.” Hugo turned to Addam, the same warm smile on his face from the night before. “And how has your stay been treating you?”

It was almost the same as the question about breakfast. Addam rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, the day is young.”

Hugo raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the matter further. “Indeed.” He scanned both Addam and Aegaeon with attentive blue eyes. “I was going to ask to join you for a bout, but perhaps it’s time instead for a break?”

Addam let out a sigh. “You may be right about that one, unfortunately. And here I was, so excited to get in a round with you!” He paused, “Not that Aegaeon isn’t an incredible sparring partner as well.”

Hugo smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. I wasn’t certain the two of you would get along in particular.”

Aegaeon saved Addam the trouble of responding. “Your Majesty, do you intend to entertain guests for the remainder of the afternoon?”

“That would certainly be my preference,” Hugo addressed Aegaeon directly, “However, given tomorrow’s ceremony...”

Aegaeon bowed again, deeper than before. “If that is Your Majesty’s wish, I would be grateful for you to entrust the preparation to me.”

Hugo’s eyes widened slightly. “Is that not asking far too much of you, Aegaeon?”

“However, I would ask that you keep at least three of your personal guard with you in my absence.” The Blade looked directly at Addam as he spoke. 

Hugo looked back and forth between Aegaeon and Addam, assessing the request. “Very well. You have my thanks, Aegaeon.”

The Blade gave one last bow and strode out of the room, with just as much haste and purpose as he had entered it. 

Rather than returning the longsword to the wardrobe for fear of again incurring Aegaeon’s ire, Addam leaned the hilt up against the outside of the cabinet. He’d only been half paying attention to what Hugo and Aegaeon were talking about, eager to stretch and test his bruises. The bruises in question were numerous, and he was still wincing as he poked at them when Hugo approached him.

“Addam,” Hugo’s voice was sweet in a way that made it seem like it shouldn’t have been, “Do you have any idea what on Alrest would have given Aegaeon cause to despise you so?” 

Addam froze in place. “Well, I can think of a number of candidates...” He rubbed the back of his head apologetically, “Is the situation so dire?”

Hugo took a deep breath. “Aegaeon would not ask to leave my side unless he truly thought there to be a matter that only he could handle, or if he had encountered someone,” a pointed look at Addam, “Whose presence he simply cannot abide for an extended period of time.”

Addam tilted his head. “This has happened before?”

Hugo nodded. “Yes. However, at the very least, he does not seem to consider you a threat to my safety.”

“What about the three guards he specifically requested you retain in his absence?’

“That is the usual number,” Hugo shifted on his feet, “Shall we take a walk, Prince Addam?”

Addam rolled his shoulders as one last stretch. “I think I should like that very much, thank you.”

Hugo, Addam, and the three guards made their way back through the ever similar hallways of Hardhaigh Palace, at a pace that matched the relatively short length of the soon to be Emperor’s strides. It worked well enough because Hugo was eager to tell Addam all about the workings of the place, how it functioned as palace and military base down to two separate airship docks. It was only fair to repay the favor that was Addam’s tour of Auresco, Hugo had explained, even though there wasn’t quite as much to see. After a long while wandering, the party had made its way back up the elevators and into the Hardhaigh throne room. It was empty for now, but the place settings for the coronation banquet were already being arranged on the table in front of the throne. 

An expression Addam didn’t recognize clouded Hugo’s features. “I had hoped to take luncheon in here but... Perhaps not.” 

After a few moments of deliberation, Hugo dismissed one of the guardsmen with a food order. He led Addam to the same balcony as the night before, stationing the other two guards at the bottom of the staircase. The Ardanian titan was greatly more visible in the daylight, massive head moving ever so slightly as wind whipped the plains below. 

When the silence between them had grown thin, Hugo spoke. “Do you know the story of the First Emperor of Mor Ardain, Prince Addam?

“I do not believe I do,” Addam said, half wishing that he’d paid a bit more attention when he was still receiving palace education. 

Hugo didn’t seem entirely surprised. “His name was Ephem. He spent a good many years doing naught but traveling with his dear friend Carraig, until the two of them discovered our titan and founded this nation.” Hugo stared out at the Cloud Sea as he spoke, expression unreadable. “I read many of the tales of Emphem when preparing for my coronation, you see. I suppose you wouldn’t know this, unfamiliar with the tale as you are, but no visual depictions of Carraig ever feature.”

“I see,” Addam said, “A man lost to history.”

Hugo shook his head. “Historians are uncertain of whether Carriag was a man at all, but...” a smile tweaked the corners of Hugo’s mouth, “Whenever I read about Carraig, I cannot help but picture your face.”

Heat rose to Addam’s cheeks. “If you’re Emphem, and I’m Carraig... Well, I can’t say I’d be opposed to wandering the world together. Even if starting a new nation might be a bit beyond our means.”

The smile widened on Hugo’s lips. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! i'm so sorry this chapter was delayed... i got really busy with personal and university obligations so i wasn't able to finish it on time ...
> 
> the next one will not be posted next saturday either, i think? there's a sad thing i've been meaning to write but i'm by no means going to end this without one more chapter!!
> 
> anyway here it is! the untold story of why aegaeon and addam never speak to eachother in torna the golden country
> 
> as always, thank you for your support!


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